Storm Princess
by hetaliaprincess
Summary: Before the war, Beatrice Baratheon was just a child. "She's a pretty, gentle, doe-eyed gift from the Gods." her father used to say. But when he died, and the war came, she became the storm. "She strikes and burns." her mother says. Beatrice is the only true Queen, and hers is the fury.


**Hello everyone :) This is my new ASOIAF fanfiction, and I really hope you'll like it. This story will be all about my OC Princess Beatrice, in my imagination, the only Cersei's child with King Robert. Remember when Cersei talked about her firstborn, the black-haired boy who died from fever? Well, let's just pretend that he had a twin sister who survived :) This story will have absolutely everything - adventure, magic, forced marriage, torture, death (of course lol), romance, power struggle etc.**

 **You can expect some Robb Stark/OC , Oberyn Martell/OC and** **Willas Tyrell/OC** **... but mostly it's just Iron Throne/OC lol**

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 **1.**

There she stood, Beatrice Baratheon, princess of the seven kingdoms, a Baratheon and Lannister royal child... often called the doe-eyed one, because of her eyes, innocent and large. She could feel it, the cold northern wind caressing her skin, the scent of winter roses in her nose, and the voice of her father "Beatrice, come here." he demanded. "Come." he welcomed her with his wide smile and his, still strong warrior's arms "Look." he said "Winterfell."

And there was Winterfell, a castle strong and ancient, cold, grey and _finally_ , so close.. There was Winterfell, home of the proud Starks, standing like that for centuries and centuries, reminding those of her kind that there _was_ a civiization even before Andals, before Targaryens. "Is it true.." she started softly "the Northerners are descendants of the First Men?". Her father smiled "They have some blood, yes. Ahh, child, because of my friend Ned.. I always felt more Northerner than anything else. I even wanted a northern wife.. and a northern son." he paused for a moment, his eyes looking somewhere into distance. Beatrice knew that look.. he was thinking about _her_. "Come." he suddenly said "Soon you'll meet them yourself."

The proud king got on his horse with some difficulties. _He's fat_ , Beatrice thought and somehow she felt sorry for her old father. Well, he wasn't that old, but his lifestyle.. drinking and whoring and arguing with her mother, with Lannisters, with Renly, everyone.. it only made him look older than he was, and tired also, tired of life. Beatrice wasn't fooling herself, she knew who he was, and what he became. Robert Baratheon is just a shadow of his former self.. a joke. She heard stories, she heard stories about Lyanna Stark..

Suddenly she felt sorry for her mother too.. _Winterfell, Winterfell_.. _The Starks will bring back some memories.. to both of them._ And her mother will hate that, Beatrice just knew.

The young princess climbed up her horse too, a white one she called Storm. _Such a beauty_.. Storm was Lord Tywin's gift for Beatrice's nameday. "She's the fastest and fairest horse in the entire Westerlands." her grandfather was convining her "I heard you're a good rider, my princess. Than this horse is just for you." he said. And he was right. Storm quickly brought her right next to the King, who was actually galloping..

King Robert's thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere in the past, and Beatrice learned to understand that.. to understand his pain and his loss. The first time she heard about the Stark woman, Beatrice was just a child, _like Tommen is_ _now_ , she thought. And she was angry at her father. _He doesn't respect my mother_ , she thought back then. Now she was a little bit older, still a child, but older and more importantly, wiser.

Beatrice loved her funny father, his war stories, she loved his laugh and his hugs. Of all of his children, she was the closest to this fat, drunk king. And he was proud of her, more than she was proud of him. Being the king's daughter has its good sides, but when your father is _him_ , well.. if you don't mind gossips, then you'll be fine. But the green color of princess' eyes reminded people that she had some Lannister blood in her too.

As they approached the great castle, Beatrice slowed her horse and took a moment to look at its big walls once again. They were high and strong.. grey, but also somewhat bluish, or maybe it was her imagination. For some reason, they looked to her like they were made of snow, stone and ice. Everything was cold and clean.. Already she liked the place.

They entered the courtyard.

Winterfell was everything Beatrice ever heard and imagined. She could see the Stark banners, and young northern soldiers with harsh, bearded faces standing, their pale eyes focused on her. Fighting her own shyness, she gave them a gentle smile, much to their surprise, and continued to follow her father, her uncle Jamie and Joffrey, the rest of their family was following them in a carriage just behind.

 _People_.. _So many of them, so many curious eyes._ Beatrice often felt uncomfortable around big crowds. People always made her feel like something, distant, expensive and fragile. Like they were afraid _for_ her and _of_ her. It was strange.. But.. _Nevermind_ , she thought, _I'm in the North finally and it's so exiting!_

Her siblings though, didn't share her opinion. Joffrey especially. Her eyes found his, and Beatrice laughed at the expression of the young prince's face. He was bored.

"Let's go, there they are." she heard her father telling her. And really there was a Northern looking man standing in font of the big crowd, his eyes looking somewhat melancholic, his clean clothes covered with fur and Stark symbols. Next to him stood a red-haired lady, probably Lady Catelyn, she guessed by her Tully red hair.

Beatrice read and knew a lot about noble families and about seven kingdoms, that _her_ family now ruled. Her favorite kingdom was always the North. She just loved mysterious things, and North was such a big mistery in many ways and from many reasons.

When they saw her father, they all knelt down, all of them, Lady Stark, Lord Stark, their servants and some children, _their children_ , _Stark children_ , Beatrice realised. All of their proud northern heads were bowed..

And than..

"You've got fat."

Really? Father? Beatrice rolled her eyes. For a moment the princess was so embarrassed, that she had to place her free hand over her eyes. But then she heard them laughing, and quickly she found herself smiling at the sight. Beatrice saw them hug and exchange some kind words and warm smiles. The princess felt her heart warm too.. Her father told her a lot about this Stark Lord, and everything he said, every good word, at that moment to her, seemed like a truth. Lord Stark looked so different than King's Landing people. _So different_ , that she started to worry about him..

Beatrice knew the reason her father made them all travel this far north.. _Lord Eddard is my father's new hand._ The princess understood that. _The hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark, and one of his daughters will be Joffrey's queen one day.._

 _Poor girl,_ she couldn't help, but think.

There was someone else who also looked different, someone who seemed to be Lord Stark's eldest son.. _Robb?_ _This one is handsome_ , Beatrice thought. He wasn't looking at Beatrice, much to her disappointment, but at his sister, another redhead. Apparently, he didn't like the way Joffrey and Sansa were looking at each other. Beatrice was always a fast learner and a good examiner. _His sister_ _will be the queen one day, but at what price?_ Very quickly Beatrice understood who is who and what is the situation. _If I was Robb Stark, I would be worried too._

"Beatrice, come here." King Robert suddenly called her, and finally the handsome Northerner noticed her. He was watching her with his wolfish eyes, thinking Gods knows what. _And Gods, he's so handsome._ He was young, yes, but to Beatrice he looked like a real man. In King's Landing girls of her age dreamed about Loras Tyrell, and other knights who looked more like ladies than Beatrice.. Her type was Robb, that's for sure. She was now convinced in that more than ever. For some reason he didn't stop staring at her, and it made her blush a little.. _Be careful what you wish for.._

By the way Robert was calling her and smiling at her, it was obvious to everyone, that Beatrice was his favorite child. And she did look a lot like him. She looked like a younger, and female version of the doomed king. In truth, Renly and Beatrice sometimes were the only reminder of how Robert Baratheon once looked.

The black-haired princess climbed off her horse, with a help of her uncle, Ser Jaime Lannister, and she approached her father, her soft smile making its appearance. "This is my daughter, my eldest child." he told Lord Stark.

"My princess." Lord Stark bowed his head, and the others, including Robb, followed.

"Father told me a lot about you, my lord. I am glad that I finally have a chance to meet you.. and your family." she said softly, trying to concentrate on a person in front of her, and not his handsome son. There was a certain pride in princess' voice, as well as something hypnotizing and.. _unknown_. Suddenly she drew everyone's attention. It was always like that, whenever she spoke.. It's like everyone's for some reason silent and listening only when she speaks. It often made her feel uncomfortable, awkward..

"You honor me.. princess." Lord Stark finally said, his warm smile reaching his eyes. Beatrice than heard her father saying "She always wanted to visit the North. My daughter is a special little thing. She finds King's Landing boring." he laughed "I hope you're happy now." he told her gently, and than suddenly, the king's wide smile died. Princess Beatrice turned around and saw her mother climbing out of the carriage..

For a moment there was a very uncomfortable silence. It seemed to Beatrice that her mother wasn't so popular, or welcomed in the North. _She's not popular anywhere, not even in her own land.._ _She's way too arrogant,_ Beatrice thought _._

"Take me to your crypt." her father's deep voice broke the silence "I want to pay my respects." he said.

 _The crypt.._ Beatrice remembered. _It's where the Starks_ _bury their dead. It's where Lyanna lies. Mother won't like this.._ Beatrice looked at her lady mother, the golden-haired Lannister beauty. _She indeed is beautiful_ Beatrice thought _even when she's angry._

And she _was_ angry..

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait." her clear voice spoke up, but it was hushed in a second "Ned." the Baratheon almost yelled at his friend.

And it was over.. just like that.

Beatrice hated her mother being ignored and.. humiliated, but she also tried to understand her father. _I wish someone to love me one day, just the way my father loved that Stark girl._ Without thinking she gave Robb a sideways glare. Thankfully, or not, he, and other men around him, were too busy staring at Beatrice's mother...

"Where is the imp?" Beatrice thought she heard, and when she looked at Queen Cersei, she saw that she also was looking for.. _the imp_.

The imp, her uncle. Beatrice sighed _He's probably in the local brothel_ , she almost said. She maybe knew nothing about men, but she knew well enough about her shortest uncle. She maybe knew nothing about love, but she knew more than she needed to know about Tyrion's love for whores..

"We should get inside." Lady Catelyn spoke, when the heads of their houses left the courtyard "It is cold in the North, my queen." she spoke to Cersei "It took me years to get used to the weather."

Her mother nodded and Beatrice smiled _So this is Lady Stark's way of saying "Men are complicated"_ , she thought, _Thankfully, we girls, are so simple..._

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 **Oh and every review is welcomed, even the negative one. Just, please, do me a favor and don't hate my story completely anonymously. I can't stand that level of cowardness :/ Peace!**


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